


Agra

by All_I_need



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M, Humour, Second Date, Surprising Rice, the traveling lemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_I_need/pseuds/All_I_need
Summary: Douglas can't find his tie. Arthur can't find his surprising rice. Carolyn can't find one of her pilots. Can Martin and Theresa at least find their way to the Taj Mahal and navigate the king of Sweden's birthday party without everything ending in a catastrophe? Let's find out.





	Agra

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the result of me and my friend Ella betting on the Oscars. I lost and she asked me to write about Martin and Theresa's second date. This is the result. I hope you like it (you especially, Ella) and sorry it took me three years to actually get it done!
> 
> PS: to everyone waiting for me to post a new Sherlock-ff: it's at 96k and almost done, pending edits, so stay tuned!

Douglas Richardson, First (and only) Officer at MJN Air threw open the steward's hotel room door without bothering to knock, bursting into the room as if he owned it, which was the only way he ever deigned to enter any place. "Arthur, have you seen my - good God, what are you doing?!"

"Hi Douglas!," Arthur's muffled voice came from beneath the bed. "I'm looking for my lunch box. You know, the large green one with the elephant on it."

There were several questions vying for attention, each demanding to be asked first. In the end, Douglas went with: "In your towel?"

"Oh, yeah. I took a shower and forgot to get dressed."

" _Of course_ you did." Douglas sighed. "I know I shouldn't even ask you this, but why on earth are you looking for your lunch box a mere fourty minutes after lunch? A lunch that, need I remind you, you spent eating your way through the entire spectrum of yellow food?"

And what a sight that had been. He was sure he would never forget it for as long as he lived, even if he started attending weekly counselling sessions from now until his retirement.

"That was brilliant! The bananas, pineapple and spaghetti in orange juice tasted brilliant!"

Douglas shuddered and decided to change the topic before the hypothetical therapy sessions had to be upped to twice a week.

"Arthur, have you seen my tie?"

"It's not under the bed," Arthur helpfully informed him.

"I didn't expect it to be. But did you by any chance see it anywhere?"

Arthur abandoned his search for his lunch - heaven only knew why he thought it might be under his bed -  and sat up to look at him. He laughed. "Douglas! You're wearing it right now! What a funny joke!"

Ah, bugger. He should have explained that better. "No, Arthur. I meant my special tie. You know, the _very_ special one. The one you're not allowed to use as a makeshift eye patch when you're being an air pirate."

*****

"It's all going to be fine. I'll be fine. It'll be _absolutely_ fine... Oh god I have no idea what I'm doing!!!"

Martin threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Four taxis and two rickshaws came to screeching halts in front of him and six drivers demanded to know where he wanted to go.

"I ... no, I didn't call a taxi! Or a rickshaw! I was just ..."

He realised that no one was listening to him - the drivers had gotten into a heated argument about who had stopped first and therefore had the right to drive him ... wherever. Mad, probably.

Part of him bristled at being ignored like that, but a small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Douglas pointed out that this was precisely what he had wanted them to do. He did not need a cab, after all.

Loud, persistent honking drew him from his thoughts, easily overriding the noise of the arguing cab drivers. He turned his head in that direction and was amazed to see a cream white car idling on the street - it couldn't reach the curb because of the cabs and rickshaws, the drivers of which had all turned to oggle the car.

There was quite a lot of car to oggle.

Martin gaped at it, along with everyone else, until he noticed one rear window rolling down and a familiar voice calling: "Martin!"

He gulped. "T-Theresa?"

She stuck her head out of the car and smiled at him. "Were you expecting someone else to show up for our date?"

"Uh ... no, no, I mean ... no! Of course not!" He laughed nervously.

Four cabbies, two rickshaw drivers and several members of the hotel staff were openly staring at them.

"Well then, get in! We're going to be late." The window rolled back up and the door swung open.

Feeling completely out of his depth and painfully aware that he was doing a brilliant job of screwing everything up, Martin scrambled to obey, squeezing through a gap between two taxis and climbing into the car. Theresa scooted over on the backseat to give him some space.

"Wow," he said, pulling the door closed and looking around. "Oh, hello. I almost didn't see you there."

"It is a very large car," Theresa conceded, shifting closer in order to avoid having to shout. "Shall we ask the driver for a map to find our way around the backseat?"

"Ahaha. Perhaps a GPS as well?" He gave a weak chuckle, his entire body fluttering with nerves.

Theresa raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I thought pilots have a very good sense of direction."

He shook his head. "No, no ... the flightdeck comes with a built-in compass."

She did laugh at that, as if his words were incredibly funny. He could only gape in astonishment until she stopped laughing and looked at him, her gaze intense.

"Martin, are you alright?"

Shaking off the surprise, Martin finally really looked at her. Thanks to the dress she was wearing, there was rather a lot to look at. He almost swallowed his tongue in shock. "You look ..."

"... like a frilly, teal-coloured cloud?"

"... yes. ... I mean, no! No, but yes, ... it is a bit frilly isn't it? And a bit blue-ish, but not ... I mean ... you're very pretty."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Thank you."

Martin breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed a little.

"What is this?"

He jerked upright. "What?"

"In your bag."

"Oh. Ohh! It's ... well, you know you said the, um, the king liked exotic food?"

"Yes..."

"I ... brought some."

Theresa looked at the bag with undisguised curiousity. "You brought exotic food as a present?"

"Yes. I-i-is that okay? I mean, I didn't want to come and not bring anything, but if you think it's a bad idea we can just leave it in the car or throw it out of the window, or ..."

"Or eat it ourselves?," she suggested.

"No! Dear god, no." He shuddered. "It's ... uh ... well I highly doubt you'd like it. It's very exotic."

"Martin, I'm the Princess of Liechtenstein. I was fed caviar on toast before I was old enough to speak and tell them I hated caviar. I don't think whatever is in your bag can be worse than that."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Seeing no other option, Martin reached into the bag and produced a tupperware box. "I didn't have time to wrap it, so ..."

He removed the lid.

Theresa, who had leaned forward to get a better look, recoiled. "Good lord! What is that?"

"Surprising Rice."

"It certainly surprised me!," she exclaimed. "Where did you find it?"

"Under the steward's bed."

"What?!"

Suddenly it took all his attention to close the lid and return the box into his bag. "It's Arthur's creation. Surprising Rice. Trust me, it doesn't get more exotic than that."

"I'll say," Theresa muttered.

They looked at one another in silence for a moment, then started laughing.

*****

The door to Arthur's hotel room was opened so forcefully it banged off the wall, staying open just long enough to admit the force of nature that was Carolyn.

"Arthur, where is Dou- oh, there you are Douglas. Whatever are you doing here? I've been looking for you!"

"And now you found me. I shall have to find a better hiding place next time."

"I know it's a lot to ask of you but could you, for just one moment, stop being silly?"

"You're right, Carolyn. It is rather a lot to ask. ... Oh, the moment's gone now."

She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Douglas! I do not have time for your games right now. And Arthur, why are you not dressed?"

"I forgot."

She sighed. "Do you think you could have another go at it now?"

"Of course Mum!" He beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom, leaving Carolyn and Douglas alone.

"Seriously, Douglas, what _are_ you doing here? Last time I checked this was Arthur's room."

"And yet you are here, too," Douglas pointed out. "As it happens, I was looking for my tie."

"You're wearing it." And, when he started to protest: "No, shut up. Now tell me: what have you done with Martin?"

"Me? Nothing. Why would I do anything with Martin?" In his surprise, he even forgot to ask how he was supposed to tell her and shut up at the same time.

"Nonsense. You always do something. What was it this time?"

"Nothing. What makes you think I did something?"

"Martin is gone."

"So?"

"So we're in _Agra_ , Douglas. Martin can't make his way to the hotel dining hall without getting lost, much less navigate Agra. So what wild goose chase have you sent him on?"

"Carolyn, I have not done or said _anything_ to Martin. I haven't seen him since we arrived."

"Douglas ..."

"I promise."

"... oh, all right then. But where has he gone?"

Douglas sighed. "You just said it yourself. He can't find the dining hall on his own. Perhaps he got lost."

Arthur chose that moment to return, dressed in jeans and an inside-out jumper. "Maybe he got hungry and couldn't find the dining room, so he ate my Surprising Rice!"

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "If he had done that, Arthur, he'd be in this room right now, curled up on the floor or in the bathroom if he managed to make it that far."

"Well, maybe he's in there!"

"I doubt it," Douglas said calmly.

"Why?"

"Because _you_ just came out of there, Arthur. Even _you_ couldn't miss Martin if you fell over him."

There was a small pause as Arthur considered that. "Oh." He gave a short laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right."

*****

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of car horns and truck horns combined with the sound of countless people yelling abuse in various languages to form one big cacophony of noise, also known as a traffic jam.

Even the limo's soundproofing was not made to withstand the noise, only toning it down enough for Martin and Theresa to still be able to speak without yelling through the interior.

"I should have hired a helicopter," Theresa sighed, eyeing the vehicles around them. They had come to a complete stand-still.

"I'm not qualified to fly those," Martin told her.

She grinned. "But I am."

He spluttered at her. "Y-you are?!"

One perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. "Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean ... You said you wanted to be a pilot but I thought you didn't...

Theresa smiled and held up a hand to shut him up. "I wanted to fly aeroplanes but my father said he wasn't going to buy a plane and build the airfield that comes with it, so we compromised."

"I ... see." He didn't, though. His brain was stuck on the idea of anyone even considering buying an airplane, nevermind an airfield. The amount of money involved was beyond his mental grasp.

After a short pause, he noted that the car was still stuck. "Maybe we should have walked."

"I'm not walking all the way to the Taj Mahal!," Theresa told him surprisingly firmly.

He shrank back, stammering apologies. "I thought you weren't that kind of princess."

She grinned and lifted the hem of her dress a little. "I am in _these_ shoes."

"Okay." He hesitated. "Perhaps we-"

He broke off when a horrible screeching noise drew their attention back to the outside world and a rickshaw driver trying and failing to squeeze between the cars with his vehicle.

*****

"Where the hell is Martin?"

"Surprisingly, I have not been struck by the lightning bolt of automatic pilot location knowledge since you last asked me two minutes ago. I have no idea, Carolyn."

"Well, take a guess!"

"I'm fairly certain even I wouldn't be able to  guess his whereabouts correctly. The last time I was required to know his location, he was up in a tree, in the rain, in Ireland."

"... fair point."

*****

"That was brilliant! Asking the driver to take us to the Taj Mahal to make up for scratching the car!"

"Thank you, Martin. I hope you won't mind arriving like this."

"Well, I'm the one who would have walked. I'm not one for big entrances. Well, I am," he acknowledged with a self-deprecating laugh, "but I always screw them up."

"I fear arriving in a rickshaw with the Princess of Liechtenstein will be a rather big entrance."

*****

"But where is he? He can't have just disappeared!"

"And yet ..."

"This isn't funny, Douglas. Martin, alone in Agra? You know his luck, or lack thereof. Consider what might happen to him!"

"Relax, Carolyn. I'm sure he's fine. Now, have you seen my tie?"

*****

"T-theresa? I've thought about it for a bit and... a-are you sure this is a good idea? I-I mean... it's a brilliant idea, of course, but, well, it _is_ a king's birthday party."

"Yes, Martin."

"It's just, you know, I mean, I'm not - I don't..."

"Martin, it will be fine. We go in, our names are announced, no one will care, and we go and enjoy the buffet."

"A-and the king of Sweden?"

"What about him?"

"Well, uh, won't he want to talk to  you?"

"Goodness, no! He'll be off in some private room with his closest allies while we have fun with everyone else."

"Oh." He sagged with relief.

She reached out and squeezed his knee. "Don't worry."

"And, uh, the present?"

"There'll be someone to accept it on his behalf."

"Oh, good."

There was a short pause as the rickshaw hopped over cobblestones at breakneck speed and made conversation impossible.

"Theresa?," Martin asked as they returned to smoother ground.

"Yes?"

"A-are your birthday parties like this, too?"

She laughed, then sighed. "No, but Maxi's are. I'm just a princess, after all. I like to celebrate with my sisters and friends in a special place."

"Like where?"

"Weeeell," she drawled, eyes glinting with mischief, "this year I was thinking of chartering a small airplane."

"Really?"

"Yes." She nudged his elbow. "I happen to know the pilot."

*****

"So, to summarise, I am missing my tie, Arthur is missing his Surprising Rice, and you, Carolyn, are missing your pilot."

"Brilliant, we're all missing something! It's great to have something in common with you guys!"

"Arthur, you have something in common with all of us already!"

"Yeah, but, you know, this is another thing! I wonder what Skip is missing."

"A map showing his way back to the hotel?," Douglas suggested smoothly.

"But why would he leave the hotel in the first place? Has he said anything to you?"

"For the last time, Carolyn: No, he hasn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. He and I had a little bet going on whether or not it is possible to fly a plane when the pilot and copilot don't talk to each other beyond pointing and grunting."

Carolyn sighed in annoyance. "Well, I suppose it beats both of you singing everything the way you did last week. Anyway, that still doesn't tell me where he has gone."

Arthur raised his hand. "Maybe... maybe he caught someone stealing my Surprising Rice and then used Douglas' tie to tie them up!"

"Upon which he dissolved into thin air, taking the thief with him?," Douglas inquired politely.

"It must have been a very small thief, too," Carolyn pointed out.

"Small and suicidal if his or her idea of the perfect crime was to steal a box of Surprising Rice, of all things. Unless they needed it to carry out the world's most malicious murder."

"Oh, this is ridiculous!," Carolyn exclaimed. "Can't we just phone him?"

"I already tried that but his phone appears to be switched off."

"Or - maybe the thief stole Skip's phone!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"Was that before or after Martin tied him up, Arthur?"

"Douglas, be serious. This is a serious matter."

"I would think so. Theft should not be taken lightly."

"You mean, unless you're the one doing the thieving?"

"Precisely. But this makes me wonder if perhaps someone stole Martin."

"But why would anyone want to steal Skip?"

"Ah, a question for the philsophers. It boggles the mind, truly."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "I'm starting to wish someone had stolen you two."

"Oh, I know!" Douglas was on a roll now. "An unknown thief tried to steal the gold braid from Martin's hat but Martin wouldn't let go of it, thus forcing the thief to take him as well."

Carolyn fought with herself for exactly four point seven seconds before breaking. "Don't be ridiculous! No one could steal Martin while he's wearing his hat, it's too heavy!"

*****

The announcer's voice boomed around the room, going entirely ignored by almost everyone in attendance.

"Her Royal Highness Princess Theresa Gustava Bonaventura of Liechtenstein and Captain Martin Crieff!"

"M-me too?! I thought they'd only announce you!"

"But it sounds so dashing for me to arrive on the arm of a captain." Theresa laughed softly.

"Do you think so?" He couldn't help feel flattered.

"Oh yes. And if someone asks, I'll tell them all about your adventure with the dragon."

He made a face. "Please don't."

Giggling, she squeezed his arm. "Relax, I'm teasing. What heroic tale would you like me to tell?"

He struggled with himself for a moment before giving in. "Well, I did land GERTI on one engine once in St. Petersburg because the other one was on fire..."

She looked at him in astonished horror. "Really? Tell me all about it!"

"What, _here_?"

"Why not?" She steered him further into the room. "At least there will be one interesting conversation at this party."

Martin found himself smiling. "Well, if you insist ... We had just taken off when we had a bird strike..."

*****

"There you are, Douglas!"

"You have found me yet again. Well done, Carolyn. Would you like to go hide somewhere while I remain here?"

"Oh, stuff it, will you? I have searched the pool area, the hallways around our room, the dining hall, and the hotel gym."

"And now you've found me. Congratulations."

"I was looking for Martin! Finding you was hardly difficult. Just follow the signs to the next bar and there you are. And that is quite an impressive row of empty glasses. How many have you had?"

"Why don't you count them? I think I might be starting to see double."

"What, from apple juice?"

"Anything will make you dizzy if you drink enough of it. I take it our gallant captain remains missing in action?"

"Indeed." Carolyn climbed onto the bar stool next to him. "I do not know where else to look. I've sent Arthur to the pool. He suggested diving around in it in case Martin is hiding there."

"What, underwater? When he gets flustered he barely has the lung capacity to breathe above the water, much less underneath it."

Carolyn shrugged and ordered a whiskey for herself. "And a fat load of good it does trying to explain that to Arthur. I left him to it. He's just about bright enough not to drown and it will keep him from worrying."

"Ah. While you intend for the two of us to search the entire rest of the hotel, I presume?"

"What's left of it, yes."

Douglas nodded. "Well, I can confidently state that Martin has not gone for a drink at the bar. Tell you what, you go looking for him in the lobby and I'll stay here in case he shows up."

*****

After some casual mingling, Martin and Theresa found themselves standing beside one of the large buffet tables, examining the range of food on offer.

"I have to say, I didn't expect the king of Sweden's birthday party to be like this, but they sure have a lot of food."

Theresa nodded. "Yes, and this is only one buffet. There's another one at the other end of the room."

"Gosh."

She grinned. "Quite. The catering tries to take every guest's nationality into account. I'm afraid most guests only come for the food and to be able to say they were there if something interesting happens."

Something in her voice made Martin look at her curiously. "Something interesting?"

Theresa shrugged. "Oh, you know. Scandals, assassination attempts ... Last year, two princes got into a fight and the Queen of Denmark was pushed into a bowl of punch."

"Oh..."

"But that's the exception," Theresa added, sounding a bit regretful. "Usually these parties are dreadfully boring."

Martin's shoulder's sagged. "Well, that's a relief."

"You won't say that after another two hours of mindless mingling and small talk." She grimaced.

Martin handed her a glass of punch. "I can tell from experience that too much excitement isn't all it's cracked up to be, either."

She nodded in thanks and took a sip of punch. "I can imagine. Oh, fruit!" She pointed at a basket. "What was that game you told me about that Douglas and your dragon like to play with fruit?"

"The, uh, the Traveling Lemon?," Martin asked hesitantly.

Theresa beamed at him. "Exactly! We should play that here!"

"Uh..."

*****

_10 minutes later:_

"Excuse me, Ma'am."

The woman turned her head to look at him, eyebrows rising as she took in sight that was Captain Martin Crieff looking rather awkward and wearing a suit and a very nice tie.

"Yes?"

He gave her a nervous smile. "Would you mind holding this for a moment? It goes well with your dress."

Before she had time to protest, she was presented with ... "A lemon? What am I supposed to do with an entire lemon?"

"Ju-just hold it, if you please. I just need to tie my shoe."

"Oh, very well." She accepted the lemon and, as Martin moved into a crouch next to her, turned back to her friend to exchange raised eyebrows and a look.

When she turned around a minute later, he had disappeared.

She looked around in confusion and when she couldn't catch sight of the odd ginger man she placed the lemon on the small table next to her cup of tea.

*****

_6 minutes later:_

Theresa sailed through the crowd like a woman on a mission, hardly noticing the way people instinctively made way for her so she could pass without running into them. Perhaps it was the way she searched the crowd, perhaps it was the slight frown on her face. Either way, no one dared to stop her and inquire after her wellbeing, her current occupation, or who she was looking for.

She was just about to give up on her search when she spotted one of the Princesses of Sweden standing at a small table with some of her friends.

With a triumphant smile, Theresa altered her course and marched right over to them.

"Oh hello!" She waited impatiently for the usual pleasantries to pass and then, before anyone could drag her into a conversation said: "Pardon me, do you still need this lemon?"

The princess turned around in surprise. "What? Why do you need a whole lemon?"

She shrugged. "I like my tea lemony. Now, do you still need it?"

"Not at all. Someone gave it to me earlier but then he disappeared."

"How odd," Theresa said, trying very hard to keep a straight face. "So you don't mind passing it on to me, do you?"

"Here, have it if you must." The princess handed her the lemon and watched in horror as Theresa put it into her teacup.

Theresa thanked her quickly and disappeared back into the crowd on a mission to find Martin.

Thus, she didn't hear the Princess' comment to her friends: "Young people these days! Putting whole lemons in their tea, I beg you!"

*****

"He has been gone for hours now," Carolyn said and downed the rest of her Martini.

"I'm sure he would have called if he was in trouble," Douglas told her, doing his best to sound convincing.

They were slumped on a sofa in the hotel lobby where they could keep an eye on the entry, waiting for Martin to show up.

Night had fallen but there were still many people on the streets. They could hear music wafting into the lobby every time someone entered or left the hotel.

"Our flight home is in eight hours," Carolyn reminded him. "What do we do if he hasn't shown up by then? Should we call the police?"

"He's a grown man, Carolyn. Let him have the evening off. Who knows, he might have gone out to have some fun. For all we know, he might be out there, partying."

Carolyn gave him a look. "Douglas, you do remember we're talking about Martin and not yourself, don't you?"

"My apologies. You are absolutely right, of course. What was I thinking? The apple juice must have gone to my head."

"I should say so. We both know that Martin is the last person you'd find at a party."

*****

Martin didn't quite know how he had ended up in his current position.

They had been well into round five of The Traveling Lemon when he had run into Theresa on his search for the lemon and she had grabbed his hand and dragged him with her, out of the room and onto one of the beautiful terraces overlooking the gardens. Long billowing curtains shielded them from the view of the other guests inside and the warm night air was a welcome relief to the slightly too-cold air-conditioned interior.

The music played by the live band inside wafted through the curtains and Theresa turned to him with sparkling eyes and a mischieveous grin.

"Dance with me."

Martin swallowed. "I ... you know I'm not that great of a dancer, actually."

To his surprise, she laughed. "Me neither. There is a reason why I dragged you out here instead of onto the dance floor in there." She nodded towards the doors they had just passed. "Mother always insisted we take dancing lessons, but I could never remember the steps."

Martin felt himself relax, a tentative smile on his face. "You really are an unconventional princess."

She smiled, catching both his hands in hers. "You don't know the half of it. Now, how about that dance?"

He couldn't say no to people in general but when it came to Theresa, he found he really didn't want to, anyway.

Which was how he found himself on a terrace of the Taj Mahal with the Princess of Liechtenstein, both of them trying to sway in tune with the music and completely failing. It was ... fun, he thought.

Spurred by the overall success of the evening so far and feeling rather daring for a change, he spun her around and bent her back, grinning as she shrieked and giggled, her hands holding on tight to his shoulders.

"Are you going to let me back up?," she asked archly, her eyes sparkling.

"If you insist." He pulled her back up, then yelped in suprise when she used his own methods against him and he found himself bending backwards at a 90 degree angle, Theresa grinning wickedly above him.

"Theresa!"

"Yes?," she said innocently. "Was there something you wanted?"

He thought they must look ridiculous, her in her frilly dress and him bent backwards, a complete role reversal of how these sorts of dances were supposed to go. But she was smiling and he found he didn't care what they might look like. She really wasn't a conventional princess at all.

"Are you going to keep me here indefinitely?"

She bent down, bringing her mouth close to his ear and he swallowed at her sudden closeness.

"I haven't decided yet. Would you like me to?"

"I'm completely at your mercy, Your Highness."

She rolled her eyes. "I'd much rather prefer you to be my equal."

"Well, if you'd rath-"

She kissed him then and Martin thought, rather hysterically, it was a good thing she was the one holding him rather than the other way around because he might have dropped her in sheer surprise, and then he didn't think at all.

When she pulled back and dragged him back up, they were both breathless and slightly flushed.

"There," she said. "Neither of us turned into a frog."

Martin blinked. "Pardon me?"

She grinned. "Haven't you heard? It's one of the hazards of dating a Princess."

He laughed. He didn't even know why. Perhaps it was the adrenalin, or the entire bizarre evening catching up with him, but he laughed and laughed and laughed, clutching her to him and laughing into her neck and feeling her answering laugh more than hearing it.

"Do you know," he finally said when he found he had enough air to speak, "I rather fear I'll have to face a dragon later tonight when Carolyn demands to know where the hell I've been."

"Do you want me to come along and be your dragon slayer?"

He shook his head. "I'll be fine. If it comes down to it, I can always tell her the truth."

"And you think she'd believe that?"

"God no!"

They grinned at each other.

Theresa reached out and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, this has been a rather unbelievable evening."

Martin felt ridiculously light and playful. "Mmh, I've never ridden in a rickshaw before."

Theresa giggled. "Me neither. So, how about we go to Croydon Airport Visitors' Centre next time?"

Martin blinked. "Next time?"

She drew back a little. "Well, unless you don't want to, of course. I just thought..."

"No, no no no," he interrupted quickly. "Of course I want to. I just ... really? Croydon?"

She shrugged. "I really like airplanes. And you get that look in your eyes when you talk about anything related to flying ... it's rather nice."

"You really think so?"

Theresa nodded. "I like that you don't treat me like the Princess of Liechtenstein. You just treat me like a person. And perhaps we can continue our discussion about whether the Supermarine Spitfire, Seafire or Spiteful is the best variant. I don't believe we ever came to a conclusion last time."

They hadn't and Martin doubted they ever would. "I can't imagine anything better," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

He watched her gaze flick back down to his mouth and felt so light-headed he thought he might faint any moment.

"Well, perhaps not _anything_ , precisely," he admitted.

"Care to demonstrate?," she asked.

Martin did.

When they rejoined the other guests some minutes later, it was to find everyone getting ready to leave.

"What's going on?," Theresa asked, catching some random noble by the arm. "This is a bit early for the party to dispense, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "The birthday boy sampled some of his presents. From what I hear, he has been confined to the bathroom for the past half hour and has announced that no one is to ever give him rice ever again."

Martin and Theresa shared a look.

"Do-do you think we should leave?"

"Did it have our names on it?," she whispered.

"Nope. But I suggest we don't wait around to find out if anyone remembers we gave it to him."

They left in a hurry.

*****

It was just past midnight and both Carolyn and Douglas were trying to stay awake by staring through the glass doors of the hotel entrance and playing Yellow Car.

Carolyn had sent Arthur up to bed some hours ago so at least one of them would be awake enough the next day to make coffee for the others.

"Nice car," Douglas commented as they watched a long cream white limousine glide past.

"Hmph," Carolyn replied. "Bit ostentatious in this place, don't you think? They might as well beg to be held up and robbed."

"It's a shame about that long scratch mark in the side. Perhaps they stole it."

"Why are you even talking about limousines, Douglas?"

He never got around to reply as the hotel's doors slid open and Martin came in, wearing Douglas' tie and a grin that was rarely seen on his face.

It took them a moment but in the end, they both came to the same conclusion: he looked confident.

"Martin!," Carolyn called and Douglas was almost disappointed to see Martin flinch and shrink a bit.

"Carolyn. Douglas. W-what are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just sitting here, wondering whether our pilot has gotten himself kidnapped and killed in a ditch somewhere."

For once, Martin didn't back down at the apparent sarcasm. "As you can see, I am perfectly fine."

"But where have you been?"

"Out."

Douglas raised an eyebrow, impressed against his will. "You don't say. And would you care to be a bit more precise?"

Martin shook his head. "No."

"Martin-" Carolyn began but he actually cut her off.

"I am an adult, Carolyn. I am free to do as I please with my spare time and I don't need to justify myself to you. Either of you. Douglas, here's your tie back, sorry for having to borrow it."

He untied it and handed it over. Douglas accepted the fabric. "At least something of mine got to go out and enjoy the delights of the city," he remarked. "Come on, Martin. At least a hint?"

"No time, got to go to bed so I'll be ready to fly us home tomorrow," Martin said, walking past them. "Good niiiight."

He got into the lift and was gone.

Douglas and Carolyn turned to stare at one another.

"Well," Carolyn said, and then again. "Well."

"Quite so. I didn't know he had it in him."

Douglas yawned. "Well, if it is all the same to you, I'll go back to bed. We have found our pilot and my tie, so that solves our little mystery."

"What about Arthur's Surprising Rice?," Carolyn demanded.

Douglas shrugged. "The cleaner must have found and deposed of it. I certainly would have done so had I found that under a hotel bed."

"Good point."

They walked to the lift together, neither quite willing to admit they were relieved to know Martin was all right.

"I do wonder what he's been doing," Carolyn said as the lift doors closed.

Douglas shrugged. "Perhaps he went out on a date."

They shared a look and chuckled. "Bloody unlikely."

It was not until several weeks later, in the middle of the night in an airplane in Xinzhou, that they learned the truth. And yet much later that an inebriated Martin told Douglas of the fate of Arthur's Surprising Rice on his stag night.

"-and that is why Theresa and I have agreed not to have anything more exotic than oranges at our wedding."

"Not even lemons?," Douglas asked.

Martin grinned. "Only one. Enjoy searching for it."  
  
**THE END.**


End file.
